


The Heel of One Who Is Not Achilles

by Gabrielle



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 22:12:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1704401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabrielle/pseuds/Gabrielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*Set in Season 5 during Tough Love* Glory is a god and she can't be killed. Kill Glory. You have to kill Glory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Heel of One Who Is Not Achilles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snogged](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snogged/gifts).



The Heel of One Who Is Not Achilles  
  
  
  
Glory is a god and she can’t be killed.  
  
Kill Glory. You have to kill Glory.  
  
It’s all your fault. Everything that’s happened to Tara. She’s helpless now; that beautiful mind – all odd angles and lace curtained corners – is gone. She’s alone in the dark where you can’t get to her; scared and lost and broken. Your fault. All your fault. Because you’re not good enough for her to trust you.  
  
She was lost and afraid even before Glory got her, wasn’t she? Afraid of your magic, afraid you were going to ride the first penis you could find back to Boystown, afraid… Just afraid.  
  
But she was nowhere near as afraid as you are now. You could hardly bear to look at her back at the hospital. Those eyes, once the windows to someplace secret and beautiful – a garden where the flowers were all for you – they’re only windows to a vacant room with a broken chair lying on its side and cobwebs in those corners you’ve always loved.  
  
Why? Why Tara? Why not you? Tara doesn’t deserve this. She’s always hated being alone and now she’s trapped somewhere without you and the doctors think she’s crazy and you want to scream at them that Tara’s your girl – your sweet, precious, perfect girl – and she’s _not_ crazy. But it wouldn’t make any difference, would it? Because they don’t know. They don’t know anything. They live in this town and they see the scars and the bodies and they know that people disappear too often and they still won’t see. They won’t _see_.  
  
But that’s okay. Because you see. You see everything and you know what needs to be done.  
  
Glory is a god and she can’t be killed.  
  
Kill Glory. You have to kill Glory.  
  
Buffy doesn’t see either. She thinks you should just go home and rest – as if you could sleep without Tara. If this were Angel… This _was_ Angel once and did Buffy stay home and rest? Of course she didn’t. She went out, knife in hand, as thirsty for blood as any vampire… and she almost killed Faith, didn’t she?  
  
So it’s fine for her, because her love for Angel is real and important (is, not was, and don’t you know it) but yours for Tara? No. Is it because she believes what Tara feared? That this is some bit of Girls Gone Wild college experimentation? Or does she just not think that being gay is equal to being straight?  
  
Maybe the truth is that Buffy’s always believed there’s one set of rules for Slayers and another set for mere mortals.  
  
Okay, you’re not being fair to Buffy right now and you know it, but you know what? You don’t care. Because nothing that has happened in the last hour has been one bit fair. Tara’s mind is gone. _Gone_. How in the hell is that fair? So if you’re being harsh and judgmental, is that really so very wrong of you? It’s nowhere near as wrong as a world where the most powerful god is a bottle blonde bitch who destroys everything that’s pure and beautiful.  
  
Of course, no one’s really tested that theory yet – the one about her being the most powerful and all. Might be time for someone to try, don’t you think?  
  
Glory is a god and she can’t be killed.  
  
Kill Glory. You have to kill Glory.  
  
Good thing everyone believes you’re Buffy’s faithful lapdog, doing as you’re told, and they’ve left the medicine cabinet unlocked for you. The Magic Box… the magic _tools_. So you just stroll on in as if you own the place. You do and you don’t.  
  
Somewhere in your head is the echo of all those voices in high school who called you names and made you feel worthless and for a moment you question… Can this be done? And if it can, can it be done by _you_? But then you remember the look in Tara’s eyes, the fear and the lost-ness, and you know – whether it can or it can’t, it will be and it will be by _you_. Because you’re the only one with the courage, the only one with the _reason_.   
  
Up the stairs you rush. Why did you wear this stupid skirt today? You could move so much faster if you’d just worn pants. But it’s okay. Because now here you are – where the _good_ stuff is kept. The books and the tools that will give you all the speed and strength you need.  
  
Find a bag. Yeah, that black leather one. Then there are the weapons and potions. You grab them as if you’re a greedy child stealing sweets before the man behind the counter can stop you. Knives, shiny and sharp. Vials, full of spirits and danger. And books. Don’t forget the books. That’s one thing you’ve always had, even before you had _this_ \- the magic that’s beating in your bones like a separate heart. (The heart that belongs to Tara and Tara alone.) You’ve always had the ability to see the power hidden in plain sight on the printed page. It’s there for you right now… but it’s not here, not in any of the books you see displayed on the shelves before you.   
  
Where is it?  
  
Augh! You have to find it! You have to find it now! So you tear these useless books from shelf after shelf, heedless to the damage you might be doing them, and at last – there it is! Darkest Magic. Come to Mama. That’s a good book.  
  
It’s locked, but – like Lizzie Borden – you know how to use an axe, and soon enough, its secrets are spread open before you. You drain them from its pages. Guess Buffy’s not the only one who’s learned from the vampires, huh?  
  
Well, now you’re ready. You hate to eat and fly, but you have a test waiting for you and punctuality counts toward your final grade.  
  
Glory is a god and she can’t be killed.  
  
Kill Glory. You have to kill Glory.  
  
You’re polite, so you let Glory know that you’ve arrived… with an earthquake. It’s a bit more dramatic than a doorbell, but she’s a god – time to pull out the grand gestures, wouldn’t you say?  
  
As the door flies open, you hear her ask, “Did someone order an apocalypse?”  
  
Yeah, bitch. Someone did.   
  
Glory is a god and she can’t be killed.  
  
Kill Glory. You have to kill Glory.  
  
  
  
  
The End.


End file.
